


I'm Done

by Bait_And_Pitch



Series: Clarkson Universe [1]
Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Bawson - Freeform, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 12:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10412337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bait_And_Pitch/pseuds/Bait_And_Pitch
Summary: She's made a life for herself that she never thought possible with a man she never thought she could have, then the other shoe dropped.





	1. Oh Fun

CHAPTER 1  
  
I walked in to the studio fresh from the makeup chair. The game had ended a short 45 minutes ago. I was still reeling. The team had to be too. No one could have expected a game like that, especially against the Cardinals. This was gonna be a great panel.  
  
“Ahh. She’s arrived. Go easy on us this time will ya?”  
  
I couldn’t help but playfully cut my eyes and smirk.  
  
"Hey, someone has to keep you guys honest."  
  
"That’s what we’re afraid of"  
  
I can only smile shyly and shake my head to myself.  
  
I had wanted to finally slow down. Take a breath. Find a job where I was less visible but still doing the work I loved. Have a life. And I found it. How I find myself on a syndicated sports show that broadcasts to millions, I'll never know. Actually, I do know. He's a grizzly bear of a man with a marshmallow center. He had me at pizza box. Or was it the other way around. Speaking of...  
  
**ML-I know you're excited but you have to be professional. Please don't pick a fight over everything, ok Doc?**  
  
**EC- Haha. That's rich coming from you. How many times did Skip talk to you about keeping your temper under control?**  
  
**ML- I'm a ballplayer. It's expected**  
  
**EC- No, you're a dude and take every opportunity to show it**  
  
**At the bottom of the screen I see he's typing. I quickly tick off a response before he can finish.**  
  
**EC- Yes I know you're the captain and everyone needs to know not to mess with your team.**  
  
I see that he's stopped typing and giddily wait for him to reply.  
  
**ML-I hate when you do that**  
  
**EC-Do what?**  
  
I can’t help if I know how he thinks. In my text, I know he can hear the tinge of innocence and see my head cock sweetly to the side as clearly as if he were beside me. I'm not ashamed at how hard I'm smiling at my phone. Something tells me he is too.  
  
**ML-Can't wait to see you wipe the floor with them**  
  
**EC-Babe it's not a competition and I actually like them remember**  
  
**ML-Doesn't matter. You always win. Even when you're not trying**  
  
**EC-Hey don't make me all ... goopy before the show!**  
**EC- And what happened to me being professional?**  
  
**ML-LOL. goopy? that's new.**  
**ML-Just don't hold back. You got this**  
  
**EC-Thanks babe. Good to know I have at least one fan. Drinks with the team to celebrate?**  
  
**ML-Of course! Do you have to ask. Ginny and Blip, heck the whole team, would kill me if you didn’t come.**  
  
**EC-Cool your jets old man. Just making sure.**  
  
**ML-Listen,**  
  
I can see him in his chair at his cubby, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, phone in front of him. Probably just in his boxers after his ice bath. His clothes laid out, waiting to be put on. He’s speaking softly even though it’s a text. His eyes gentle and creased with affection.  
  
You got us here. You got me here. You have more fans then you will ever know. I'm just your biggest  
  
Sometimes there is nothing you can say to convey what you feel. How thankful you truly are. The studio is a frenzy of activity. Five minutes to air. It doesn’t faze me. I put the phone down and let my emotions wash over me.  
  
I’m usually quick with a response. Not saying anything probably isn’t sitting well with him. I lift my phone to respond but it vibrates.  
  
**ML- Ev…**  
**ML-Too goopy?**  
  
I smile warmly.  
  
**EC- Just goopy enough. Like always**  
**EC-2 min to show old man. Gotta focus**  
  
**ML- Hey. Line em up…**  
  
**EC- …Strike em out**  
  
**ML- That’s my girl. See you after**  
  
**EC-Hey Lawson**  
  
**ML- Yea**  
  
**EC- Thanks**  
  
**ML-☺**  
  
My big strong man just used an emoji. He’s definitely not living that down. I take a deep breath to center myself. Game face firmly in place. I see a chair is placed beside me.  
  
“What, am I not enough for you anymore?”, I ask teasingly. No one laughs.  All three of them seem…uncomfortable. I was texting for 5 minutes. What could I have possibly missed.  
  
“Listen Doc, it was last minute. They just told us.”  
  
“Told you what?”  
  
Before Ben could answer, I turn to see Rachel Patrick walking straight towards me.  
  
”Oh fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think 'EC' is and what is her relation to Mike? What's his/her connection to Rachel?


	2. No love for the Dodgers

‘Oh fun’ may have been what I said but we all know that’s not what I meant. People think it’s crazy that I can work with pro-ballers, the MLB, and not curse. Those two words, and the look on the panels faces, are proof that you don’t need profanity to be completely understood. 

“Ms. Patrick”, Kyle Brandon says with a nod and smile.

”So glad you could join us on such short notice”, Matt Spellman greeted with a smile and a discreet eye roll to anyone who would understand. 

Ben Gaffgin, nodded curtly and went back to his notes. He patted my hand in solidarity under the table. 

Most sports stations in the LA area know that Rachel Patrick does not have a good rapport with the Padres and it went well beyond her relationship with Mike Lawson.

Rachel greeted all the men with her standard professionalism. She smoothed her top and took a sip of water. She cut a glance to the woman on her right. 

“Congratulations. I heard LA treated you well, this time around”, Rachel said coolly, slightly emphasizing the last three words, looking straight ahead. 

“Thanks. I love LA.”, I say brightly. “But San Diego is home now”. 

Rachel tenses ever so slightly but smiles none the less. 

“And we’re on in 3,2,1”, the show coordinator says.

“Hello and welcome to The Sports Corner. I’m your host Matt Spellman and with me are these two lovely gents, Kyle Brandon,”

“Namaste”, Kyle says with a small bow of the head,

“and Ben Gaffgin”,

“Enchanté”, Ben says with a wink.  

I can’t help but chuckle. Many don’t like their antics. Some feel they are being unauthentic when they act like this. That it’s for show, just for ratings. That this is a sports show. It should be taken seriously. I couldn’t disagree more. That’s why I love coming to The Sports Corner.  Through near cancelations and talk of replacements, they have always remained the same. Three complete dorks. Dorks that live and breathe sports. Oh, they take it seriously but they have fun too.

Matt laughs. “What was that?”

“You did call them gents. What did you expect?”, I say playfully, before they can answer.

“Thank you for that explanation random voice from stage left”, Ben says with a smirk. 

Oh crap.

“Well our guests are soo excited to be here they couldn’t even get to the intro”, Kyle sounds annoyed but his eyes betray him. The tug at the corner of his mouth evident. I simply shrug as if my behavior is to be expected. 

“Today we have a treat for you.”, Matt supplies. “Two women taking on the sports industry from two drastically different points of view. Rachel Patrick, Sports Journalist from the LA Times and Eva ‘Doc’ Clarke, Senior Analyst and Strategist for the San Diego Padres. Ladies, welcome.”

I let out a small sigh of relief. Last time I was here the guys and I got into a heated discussion about how women are to be addressed on the panel. It took nearly an hour for them to understand that pointing out a women’s appearance in the same breath you mention her credentials isn’t just unnecessary but demeaning, no matter if your comments are considered a compliment or not. They took it in stride, not meaning any offense. I’m glad to see our discussion made an impression.

“Thanks Matt. It’s a pleasure to be invited back”, Rachel replies. She’s pleasant but stiff. Not quite settled. 

“Yes. Coming to your show is always a highlight to my time in LA”. By this time, I’m nearly bouncing out my seat with excitement. It hasn’t gone unnoticed. 

“Let’s get started. We have a lot to cover today. Some truly amazing, some would say historic, games were played today”, Matt continues. “Ben why don’t you start”.

“I feel sorry for the poor soul that missed this game”, Ben starts. I’m biting the inside of my cheek with anticipation. “The Dodgers played a heck of a…”

Dodgers, DODGERS? My head wipes around to the men next to me faster than I thought possible. I’m met with three faces of firmly suppressed giggles that quickly erupt into ruckus laughter. It takes a few moments but they begin to calm.

“What? No love for the Dodgers Doc? Is there another game you wanted to discuss first?”, Matt says mockingly, followed by a few snickers. 

I wisely choose to remain silent but dart my eyes to each man, pleadingly.  Mike wasn’t lying when he said you have to be professional. Commentators and analyst alike have to remain as neutral as possible. It’s expected that talking about your favorite team or player will color your perspective, especially if you are currently working for them.  However, a successful commentator has to be able to pivot and talk about other teams with equal enthusiasm. It’s about the love of the game not just a team. Today I am a commentator and analyst, not just a fan. 

“Come on guys. Put her out her misery”, Ben says. 

Oh thank god. It’s no surprise he’s always been my favorite.

“Fine. I guess we can start with the Padres win against the Cardinals.”, Kyle says with a dramatic huff followed by a smile.

“Ok, so we have Baker breaking out her Cutter”,

“Duarte catching for a full game”,

“and Lawson on first!”, they each take a turn in ticking off in rapid succession.  

“I don’t understand!” , Matt exclaims, “This should have been an unmitigated disaster! How was this not a disaster!”

They all look to me with delighted bewilderment. Their excitement makes me think they didn’t give a dang about the Dodgers either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you just met 'EC', Eva Clarke. What's your first impression?


	3. Line em up

“You’re absolutely right. It should have been a disaster.”

That is definitely not what they were expecting. I wait patiently as they process my statement, searching for understanding. 

“So, this was a fluke? Just dumb luck?”, Matt asks.

“Oh no. I didn’t say that.  There was definite strategy behind it, hence my job title.”, I say with a flourish of my hand.

I offer no other explanation. I am far to smug for their liking. They are itching for more details. It’s all part of the game. They faked me out at the outset and now I do the same. Make them come to me. Now, when they ask about my team I can answer in full without seeming as if I’m hogging all the spotlight. 

“Well there is no argument here, whatever your strategy was, it worked. With a final score of 7-0 and not a single Cardinal making it to base, unbelievable!” Kyle beams. 

“Baker finally got her no-hitter!”, I practically yell excitedly. “Have we ever seen a team make consistent contact and still not base for an entire game?”, I emphasize ‘entire’.   
   
“We don’t know. As of right now we haven’t found one yet”, Ben supplies happily.  
   
Like Matt said, historic. 

“We have to talk about Baker. Her first three batters walk out and it seems like they just walked right back. Did Duarte even have time to make a call?”, Kyle says with a chuckle. “I mean come on. Let ‘em think they stand a chance.”  
   
“Baker doesn’t stroke egos. Not her teammates and most definitely not the Cardinals. She gets the job done.”, I say with pride.  
   
“So, two more batters come out. More of the same. Strike after strike, Then, something magical happens.”, Matt gestures evilly. “They call ‘The Mountain’ and behold…strike one!”  
   
“We have very different ideas about what qualifies as magic”, I deadpan.  
   
“He’s a story teller. He’s building suspense.”, Ben say.    
   
“This segment is 15 minutes. Hop to it buddy”, I joke.  
   
 “Fine.”, he says in a comical huff. “Baker throws her curve ball and BAM! The first ball of the game.”, Matt asks enthusiastically. “See, I had ya. You thought it was a homer”. He points to the screen, the audience watching at home, and smiles.  
   
“But alas, no.”, I say. “So, Baker has a choice. Try her luck with another curve, maybe her trusty screw ball or a fast.”  
   
“Duarte makes the call. Bakers nods. She winds and we get…”, Ben pauses for dramatic effect. “a Cutter. A perfect, poetry in motion, Cutter.” Ben puts his head down and lightly taps the table with his fist like the Cutter was so beautiful it’s physically causing him pain.  
   
Matt, Kyle and Ben all make various exclamations of awe of the Cutter for a few moments. Then soon realize if they want an answer they have to stop talking.  
   
“Seriously, where did that Cutter come from”, Kyle asks.  
   
Now it’s my turn to fangirl.  
   
“What can I say. My girl got skills! Haven’t you learned never to doubt Ginny Baker. The Ginny Baker! How are you still surprised!”, I smile and wink at the camera. Ginny “says” she hates it when we gush about her on camera but I know secretly, sometimes she still needs the confirmation. I’m proud of my friend. I can tell the world that and her at the same time. They smile and chuckle at my antics. My Padre pride prominently on display.  
   
“But it all seriousness,” I continue, “It really stems from her injury her rookie year.” I take a calming breath. “Getting hurt her rookie year was terrifying and I would be lying if I said we didn’t think it was possibly a career ender.” They all nod in understanding. “But ultimately it was a blessing in disguise”, I say.  
   
“A blessing? How so?”, Rachel inquires quizzically.  
   
I can’t deny it but we all forgot she was there.  
   
“By now we all know that Ginny is where she is because of determination and a crazy work ethic. But she’ll never have the power of her male counterparts.”  
   
The three hosts’ faces contort at the perceived dig at Ginny. I raise my hand slightly, asking for patience and a little leeway.  
   
“It’s nothing personal. It’s a biology. Baker will be the first to tell you.” They relax at my explanation. “She trained as hard as she could to combat it but picked up some bad habits.”  
   
“Did they contribute to her injury”, Ben asks empathetically.  
   
“It’s hard to say for sure but it’s not inconceivable. But she took it easy and healed and did her PT like a good little Padre. Then she worked extensively on her mechanics. Baker found the right way to pitch and a little extra power she didn’t know she had. It opened up the way to cultivate different pitches and hone her skills. Did I mention her fast ball clocked in at 92 mph today?”  
   
“Not as much power as a man? Not so sure about that Doc”, Kyle ribs.  
   
“You said she’s cultivated different pitches? Does that mean she has some other balls up her sleeve?”, Matt questions.  
   
“To go from a serious injury to the level she’s competing at now, in just over a year, there’s no telling how far Baker will go. And if she has some new balls, you’ll just have to tune in to our games and see.”, I say diplomatically.  
   
“That makes sense.”, Rachel says more to herself than the panel. Her inflection denoting her own personal understanding of a situation that we have yet to be made aware of. We all turn to her. We all know there has to be more to come.  
   
“Ever since Ginny got called up people have been wondering why she hasn’t made more of an effort to rally support for more women to be called up.”, Rachel speaks innocently. “But it makes sense now. She was focusing on her arm. Hopefully she will make that her priority now.”  
   
To the untrained ear this statement would seem innocuous. It is anything but. She’s calling Ginny out. Calling her out not as a ballplayer but as a woman. That Ginny should be giving more. That it’s her responsibility, as a woman, to ensure that more woman make it to MLB. Rachel’s thinking is faulty and problematic. Ginny isn’t here to refute Rachel herself, but I know the perfect women who’s poised and qualified for the job.  
   
I chuckle humorlessly and shake my head lightly from side to side.  
   
“I take it you don’t agree.”, Rachel crosses her arms and says.  
   
I take a breath and smile to the camera. Time to line em up…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to Ginny to finally have her no-hitter and I wanted her to come back from her injury even better.  
> Do you think Rachel's expectation of Ginny is fair?


	4. Full Mike Lawson

“No. Not at all”, I say unimpressed.  
   
“Figures”, Rachel says dismissively.  
   
“Yea, figures you write about sports but still have no clue what it means to be a ball player.”, I say, an edge to my voice. 

I know. ‘Don’t pick a fight.’ ‘Be professional.’ Mike’s words echo in my head. But its Gin’s reputation. I have to say something.

“Excuse me”, Rachel protests. “I’ve worked in this industry for over 12 years. I think I know how it works.”  
   
“Are you talking about being a journalist or a ballplayer because only one applies.” I refrain from smirking and let Ben’s face suffice.  
   
“And when you say people want to know”, I mime quotes around ‘people’, “do you mean people or you?”  
   
I look pointedly at her and wait for a response. She glares at me but remains silent.  
   
“Ok here’s another question and I promise it’s a soft ball.”  Ben titters but swiftly composes himself. “Do you want more women in journalism, especially sports journalism?”, I ask.  
   
Rachel blinks a few times. The answer is simple, too simple. That’s why she hesitates. She tries to act like she still has the upper hand.  
   
“Of course, I do.”, she answers confidently.  
   
Matt, Kyle and Ben wait with baited breath for my next question. Not knowing where this line of questioning is headed.  
   
“Ok. Then as a prominent woman in the sports journalism industry, have you made it your priority to support woman sports journalist?”, I ask meaningfully. I stress ‘your’.  
   
Rachel has a sweet face but she’s cutthroat. For her, supporting another female sports journalist would be tantamount to training her replacement. It’s her fault for burning so many bridges over the years. Having a new reporter would open up doors that were previously closed for the paper. For now, she’s under contract so her position is secure. But that only lasts for so long.  
   
For all of Rachel’s bluster, her face falters for a moment. The wheels fiercely turning in her head for a response.  
   
“It’s not the same.”, she finally answers. “You can’t compare my job to hers.”  
   
“Why not?”, Kyle asks. “You’re both professional women in a male dominated industry. What’s the difference?”  
   
The three panelists have been comfortable to allow this exchange between Rachel and I to unfold without interference. They genuinely had nothing to add. But it’s clear that a larger, underlining issue is unfurling. Their own inquisitive instincts kicking in.  
   
Rachel presses on, self-assured of her opinions.

“Ginny is in a unique position to push for more. To demand change. She’s the only woman in the MLB. They’ll listen to her. If she would speak up.”, she says on exasperation.  
   
Whether she is exasperated with the conversation or Ginny, I don’t know. I cringe every time she calls her ‘Ginny’. I know it’s her name but it seems too personal. Like they know each other. Like they’re friends.  
   
“I understand that’s what it may look like from the outside, but that’s not a ballplayer’s life.” Matt calmly says, trying to impart his knowledge to Rachel and subsequently the audience.

Matt’s intervention is a soothing balm to my growing irritation.  Being an 8-time All-Star, 2-time MVP, Matt knows this life. He knows what it means to walk in a ballplayer’s shoes.  
   
 “Yes, Baker is the first woman in the MLB, but she is ballplayer first, woman second. Her job is to pitch, bat when called upon, and field when needed. That’s it. As for making demands…” Matt’s sucks in a breath, winces and shakes his head.  
   
“I ask this to the whole panel,”, picking up on my line of reasoning again. “Can any of you go to your boss and demand that he, or she, give you something? A vacation, a raise, a new office?”, I tick off on my fingers. They all, excluding Rachel, snicker and nod ‘no’, understanding my point.  
   
 “The only “demands” Baker can make are what is agreed upon in her contract. She can’t demand a sandwich much less a player get called up. Yea she has pull and yes, she’s in a very unique position. But in the club-house she has the same pull and is in the same position as any other player and that’s the way it should be.”, I say finitely.  
   
“And as for putting forth effort to help more women make it to the MLB…”, Ben leaves open for me to answer, realizing this is the heart of the discussion.

 I look straight to the camera.

 “Baker is an asset to the Padres and every game she proves it. She puts on her uniform every game. Every time she strikes someone out, every time she assists in a play, every time she takes that mound, she goes above and beyond everyone’s expectations. It doesn’t matter what a backwards commentator says about her abilities or a story some tabloid concocts, she shows up, does her job and supports her team. She proves not only that women can play on the same level as men, but that women can excel. That women belong in the MLB. Baker did her part and she continues to do so. Now, it’s in the League’s hands to continue what they started with Baker.”  
   
And it’s a strike. Oh my dang. I just went full Mike Lawson.  
   
The panel, the whole studio, is silent. Allowing my words to sink in. I chance a glance to my right. Matt, Ben, and Kyle smile at me approvingly. I see the coordinator signal for a commercial break.  
   
“And folks, that’s just the beginning of our show. Stay tuned. We have no idea what’s gonna happen next.”, Matt smiles.  
   
“And we’re out.” The studio staff moves around freely to get ready to continue after the break. The makeup artist comes over for brief touch ups.  
   
“Well that was…interesting”, Ben supplies with his patented Cheshire grin.  
   
I bump his shoulder playfully and shrug but remain quiet. I turn to the red head to my left, trying to gage what my next move should be.  
   
Rachel still stares just beyond the camera. Her jaw is firmly set, eyes hard. Fuming.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I used 'Mike Lawson' as a verb. Or is it adverb? Anyway. I feel like as Ginny gets more and more popular, people will look to her, as a women, to spearhead more women coming into the MLB. Of course Ginny would support it but it's not all on her and it's unfair to think it is. Did you like my speech? Would Mike be proud?


	5. Bawson

Rachel still has yet to say anything except thank you to the makeup artist. We covertly mouth to each other if we should do something. I make it obvious that I’m staying out of it by rolling my eyes profusely. I look down at my notes, that I really don’t need and wait for the break to be over. It’s time to get back to baseball.

“And we’re back with Rachel Patrick and Eva ‘Doc’ Clarke.”, Kyle introduces. “Before the break, we were discussing Baker’s balls…”. Kyle takes that moment to take a sip of water.

We all turn to him with raised eyebrows. Matt simply shakes his head. Kyle shrugs still not seeing his blunder.

“Whether Baker has more in her arsenal or not, her choice of pitches today completely disoriented the Cardinals. I can’t wait to see more” Ben adds.

The panel nods in affirmation.

“We can talk about Baker all day,” I say, “But can we get to the other standouts in this game?”

“Yes. Please.”, Ben answers brightly. 

“When Lawson isn’t an absolute disaster on first it’s a dang delight. But this…I don’t know how to deal with this. Was this invasion of the body snatchers Padre edition?”, Kyle excitedly bemuses. 

“Baker and Lawson have been in sync pretty much since Baker was called up. But who knew that it would extend to when Lawson is on first.”, Matt starts. “If a ball happened to scrape by Baker, Lawson was right there every step of the way.”

“That’s my boy! Yes.”

Matt and Ben smirk at my remark. “My boy?”, Kyle says. 

“What? I called Baker my girl and he’s the captain, who had a large part in crushing the Cardinals. Hard. At every turn.” I give them a pointed look and continue. “He fielded that bunt from Roberts’ in the 4th with precision. As soon as Baker let her curve ball fly, Lawson was right there charging.”, I say confidently. 

“He scooped up Roberts ball, and slung it to Foster covering first. Out! Whoo. Perfection.”, Ben recites animatedly. 

“That was Lawson the entire game. The give and take with Baker was flawless. Bawson owned the Cardinals. They weren’t ready for them. Lawson…”, I interject.

“Woah, woah, woah. Did you just say…Bawson?”

Oh crap. That’s what Evelyn and I secretly call Ginny and Mike when they get into a particularly good groove. Well, it’s out now.

“Yes”, I say.

“As in Baker and Lawson?”. Ben asks.

“Yes”, I say as if it’s obvious.

“What! When did this happy little accident happen?” Matt says gleefully, fully ready to take advantage of my slip up. 

“When they basically won today’s game by themselves, I would guess.”, Kyle tuts. 

“Hey. I wouldn’t go that far. Don’t forget Blip Sanders. And the name was a natural progression of their growth as teammates.” I say tactfully, trying to end the discussion.

“We’ll get back to …Bawson”, Matt assures me, reading my mind. “We certainly didn’t forget about the Golden Glove, that is Blip Sanders.”, “But first we have a very special caller with some thoughts on the Padres game. Caller are you there?”

“Yes. I’m here.”, the caller replies. 

“What’s your name, for our audience listening at home?”, Ben asks. 

“Charlie.”

I look down at my hands to hide my smile. When I look back up I make sure my face is neutral but attentive. 

“So Charlie, what did you think of today’s game?” I inquire.

“These are the Padres that I fell in love with. They’re firing on all cylinders.”, Charlie responds enthusiastically. 

“What do you think spurned this change for the Padres”, Kyle asks.

“Mike Lawson of course”, he answers without hesitation. 

“Oh really? How’s so?”, Ben asks, playing along.

“He’s not hidden behind that mask. The Cardinals were blinded by my, I mean, Lawson’s beauty. It’s science.”, Charlie replies. 

“Are you sure that’s what it was? Cause even without the mask can we really see Lawson’s face anymore?”, I quip. 

“Hey, that beard is a triumph”, Charlie says defiantly. 

I make a face to the camera to say ‘are you sure about that?’.

“Well thanks Charlie for your input.” Matt, says. “May I say you sound remarkably familiar.”

“Maybe like a veteran catcher of a particular team.”, I say in mock astonishment.

“I don’t know what you mean”, Charlie says, a smile in his voice. 

“Uh huh. Sure”, I add. 

“Ladies and gents please welcome Captain of the Padres and budding first baseman Mike Lawson.”, Matt happily bellows.

We clap even though there is no audience and Mike can’t see us.

“Well someone had their Wheaties this morning”, Matt jests.

I hear Mike chuckle. “Well it is a quality breakfast.”, he says with mock seriousness.

“Lawson you know you don’t put your teeth in til at least 11. It was cream of wheat with mashed banana and you know it.”, I kid. 

“Ouch and from your own club house.”, Ben commentates. 

“I can take any old man jokes you got. The score speaks for itself.”, Mike decrees.

“You got that right”, I add.

“So, mike what changed?”, Matt asks. 

“Changed?”, Mike returns.

“Well usually when you’re on first, it doesn’t go quite as well as today.”, I clarify. 

“Oh, you mean why I didn’t suck as expected”, Mike answers with a laugh.

“Well, yea”

“It’s no secret that first base and I don’t get along.”, Mike starts.

We all look around at each other like a more obvious statement was never spoken. 

“But it became clear that if I wanted to stay in the game, I had to change positions, at least part time. I also didn’t want to be a liability to my team just so I could keep my job. So, after the end of last season, I trained. Harder than I ever have.”

“There are rumors that you had a little help in your training.”, Rachel asks.

“Yes I did.” Mike responds. His voice doesn’t betray any emotions he could be feeling in response to his ex-wife’s presence. 

“Can you elaborate?”, Rachel continues. 

“Sure.”, Mike says good-naturedly. “When you’ve been at this as long as I have, you start to think about life after baseball, when it’s time to hang up the mask. I was very vocal about not being finished. My body had other ideas. Then someone very close to me said, in the sweetest voice, to shut up about it.” Mike laughs lightly. “That I knew what I had to do to keep playing. She said when I was ready to face the facts, man up and put the work in, she would help.”

“Ooo. I like her.”, Ben adds.

“Yea. Me too. I told her I was ready and a week later I was in a compound in Spain with Marlon Snyder coaching me.”

“Marlon Snyder? The Marlon Snyder? 13-time All Star. 2001 Hall of Fame inductee Marlon Snyder?”, Matt says shocked.

“I know. I know. It’s bananas. Don’t ask me how she swung it. It was a once in a lifetime experience. Sometimes I’m still not sure I didn’t dream it up.”, Mike says with enthusiasm and wistfulness. 

“Please tell us who this mystery lady is?”, Kyle interjects.

“I would love to but I promised I wouldn’t’. She’s not big on compliments. I owe her everything. Frankly, she’s why I’m here. Respecting her wishes is the lease I can do.”, Mike says sincerely.

“We’ll let it drop…for now.”, Ben says as he eyes the camera with a skeptical expression. 

“Mike, your win against the Cardinals was nothing short of remarkable. The Cardinals are a formidable opponent. What was lacking in their performance that the devastation was so great?”, Rachel asks expertly. 

“Devastation. I like the sound of that. I think it came down to preparation. I don’t think they were ready for us. Baseball is about anticipation and reading your opponent. As a team, we’ve made a number of considerable changes, thanks to our strategy team, and by time they caught on, it was too late.”, Mike says simply.

“Will these changes carry on for the rest of the season?”, Matt inquires.

“Hey, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”, Mike says.

“Would you consider your team broken before this season?”, Rachel fields. 

“Not at all. From season to season, teams change and evolve. New players. New management. New energy. We couldn’t play like we had been. It worked until it didn’t. We felt it was time to try something new.” Mike answers easily, but I know the question hit a nerve. 

“Does something new include Duarte staying on permanently as catcher”, Ben inquires. 

“To my knowledge, the roster still reads M. Lawson as catcher so, no. But our fans will have to get used to seeing a different, less pretty, catcher behind home plate.” Mike responds. 

“Mike we’ll let you get back to your celebration. Thanks for calling in. We’re excited to see what the new Padres do next”, Matt delivers.

“Hashtag New Padres”, I slip in.

“Anytime Matt”, Mike says congenially.

“Drink a beer for us”, Kyle sing songs. 

“Will do.”, Mike says and hangs up. 

“Mike Lawson everybody”, Ben says and we clap along with the cheering studio track. 

“It’s about that time ladies and gents. No, it’s not time to leave”, Matt says.

I snap my fingers comically, insinuating my disappointment of the show not being over. 

“It’s time for MVP of the week.”, Kyle clarifies.

“Baker and Lawson are the obvious choices.” Ben says.

“Too obvious some would say.”, I interject.

“So, it has to go to the Golden Glove himself, yes, Blip Sanders.”, Matt announces. 

“Doc, please tell me you have a name for Sanders.” Ben probes. 

“Of course, Bawsonip.” I say with a shrug, not missing a step. “Bawsonip, catnip for ballplayers.” I say with a wink, imitating Vanna White.

The panel is reduced to hysterics. Even Rachel tries to suppress a smile but fails. 

“Seriously how do you come up with this stuff?”, Matt says through his laughter, near tears. 

“What can I say. It’s a gift.”, I ruminate. “Honestly I couldn’t agree with your choice more. Sanders was instrumental in winning today’s game.”

“It seems the Cardinals either couldn’t hit the ball at all, it went to first or center field.” Kyle expounds. 

“Sanders couldn’t have dreamt of a pop fly more perfect than that. Robles and Stubbs tracked the ball and didn’t move an inch. Perfectly in sync.” I reflect.

“They knew exactly where it was going.”, Matt says impressed.  
   
“I love they didn’t even celebrate when Sanders caught it. They just looked at each other and then to the Cardinals and collectively said ‘Try harder’ without saying a word.”, I say proudly. “Sanders later closed the game with that diving catch to shallow center, cementing the Padres win.”

“The epitome of meticulous timing and skill”, Kyle exudes. 

“They don’t call him the Golden Glove for nothing”, I iterate. 

“And there you have it. One for the history books”, Matt levels.

We move on to talk more in depth about the Cardinals performance, the Dodgers and various other teams. Before I know it , it’s time to wrap up.

“That’s about it for us at the Sports Corner. We want to thank our two lovely guests. Eva ‘Doc’ Clark,” I salute with two fingers and smile, “and Rachel Patrick.” Rachel smiles and nods. 

“Ladies its’ been a pleasure.”, Ben smiles warmly.

“And to everyone watching have a good night. Peace, Love, and elbow grease.” Kyle finishes. 

“And we’re out”, the coordinator pronounces. 

“I don’t know about ya’ll but I’m in need of a drink”, I say.

“And food!”, Ben says eagerly. 

A studio hand remove our microphones and congratulates us on a job well done. For a few minutes, we all chat happily. Rachel ignores my presence but talks with Ben, Kyle and Matt. I say my goodbyes, gather my things, and take my leave. I reach the curb and wait for my car. Behind me I hear the telltale signs of expensive heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you feelin the banter? How do you like my introduction of Bawson and my own creation Bawsonip?


	6. Time to Let This Go

Rachel stands to the right and I’m on the left. I fiddle with my phone to seem distracted. I know it’s futile. 

“Two successful woman at each other’s throats. How stereotypical.”, Rachel says in a quiet huff of exasperation. 

I think that’s her default setting. I restrain myself from laughing. I snort softly and continue to look at my phone. But I’m curious. 

“A difference of opinion doesn’t mean we were at each other’s throats.” I say. 

“But that’s how it’s gonna play. Let me guess, you don’t care.” Rachel intimates.

“No I don’t. Because I did my job. I did it well. And for every comment that’s anti-feminist, racist, or just plain stupid, there are three more that are glad to finally see intelligent women as sports commentators and analysts.” I say fervently. 

“Yea. The sports industry is so thrilled to have you.” Rachel says sarcastically. 

“I guess they are. I’ve gotten asked to be on most of the sports shows on the east coast. Some even have offered to fly me out to other states to talk about games live. I didn’t know you followed my career so closely. Thanks for noticing.” I say sweetly. It annoys her all the more I’m not rising to her bate. 

“Of course they do. You stroke their egos and giggle like a school girl, then spew a few inane baseball facts. You’re a ballplayers’ wet dream.” Rachel says dismissively. 

I have to laugh at that. A full belly laugh. It’s too ridiculous to take seriously. 

“Oh whatever. You’re just pissed they actually like me, my boss doesn’t have to beg stations to get me on shows, and I can hold my own.”

“From what I’ve heard you’re the one that’s been begging and not for spots on panels” Rachel says nastily. I didn’t know if there are rumors about me but the insinuation was enough.

“Oh my god. Enough.” I grind out.

“Excuse me?” Rachel says, not appreciating my tone. 

“No. I’m done. I’m so done.” I say more to myself then Rachel. 

“Today you are not sports commentator supreme.” I say flippantly. “I didn’t do anything that you haven’t done a hundred times before and you can’t take it. You didn’t win this round, get over it.”

“Ev…” Rachel starts. 

“No. I’m done biting my tongue. I have been nothing but respectful to you since we met. I had to be. You were my best friend’s sister and then you were my other best friend’s wife. But guess what Pats is gone, rest his soul, and you and Mike are over.” I say, starting to release years of pent of emotions.  

“And you couldn’t be happier about that, could you?” Rachel say antagonizing. 

“No. I couldn’t. For the first time in god knows how long, he’s actually happy. He’s not walking around like the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s enjoying life and not filling the hurt of his marriage failing with baseball, booze, and women.” I rip. 

“What happened between Mike and I is none of your business.” Rachel’s anger growing.  
   
“None of…none of my business.” I recoil for her protection. “You conveniently seem to forget that he was my friend, my family, before you would even give him the time of day.” I respond indignantly. 

“You think that because you guys got married that I suddenly didn’t care about him? That I wasn’t still invested in his happiness and it affected me when he wasn’t? He may have been your husband, and you may not want to acknowledge it, but he was and still is my family. So yes, it is my business.” I say clenching my fists at my side.

“You are NOT his family!” Rachel blazes.  

“You sure as heck aren’t! The moment you let everyone think he cheated on you and didn’t have the balls to correct them, you lost that privilege.” I fling. “Oh, you think I didn’t know.” I say nonchalantly but with deadly seriousness. 

Mike never answered me when I confronted him with my suspicions. I was already angry and not concealing it well. I took solace that I had my friend back, unconditionally, and let the issue drop. However, the guilty look that crosses Rachel’s face is all the evidence I need.

“I talk to your parents on the regular. The anger that they have for Mike could only come from them thinking he cheated.” I say scathingly. 

I take a breath to compose myself. An image of Mike’s saddened eyes draining my fight. “They loved him far too much to just … just throw him away like they did.”

We wait in silence. We both don’t know what the other is thinking or how to proceed. 

“I don’t know what happened in your marriage.” I begin softly. “I know you both were hurt. I know you both made mistakes. But you…you took his family. The only real family he has ever had; you let them turn against him. The one thing you knew he wanted more than anything, more than money, more than a ring. A family. A place to finally belong. You took it and that’s what hurt him the most. That’s what broke him.” 

Each word I say is punctuated with emotion. 

It hasn’t been that long since Mike was at my house, his body heavy and head resting in my lap. I gently stroked his hair. For hours, he said nothing. Only a shuttering breath, every few minutes, evidence that he was still awake. I watched him grieve. All the bravado I had come to know, gone. I can’t mask that his heartache shook me to my core. 

When Rachel doesn’t say anything, I think that maybe we’ve reached a turning point. I try to search her face. Her eyes find mine and a hardness slips over he features. 

“Well he has you now. He has everything he ever wanted.” She says with venom. 

My anger flares again then dissipates. Her words betray her own hurt and rightfully so. I sigh. 

“It always comes back to this doesn’t it. I know Mike handled things like crap when you two decided to try again. I make no excuses for that. It was wrong and hurtful on every level. But Rachel,” I say pleadingly, “he chose you. Mike chose you.” I stress every word. 

“He never, we never …” I struggle to organize my thoughts. “Mike was my best friend. Someone I leaned on and trusted but I was so… young. My life, my career, was just starting. He never told me how he felt and I didn’t realize my own feelings til much later. By that time, he had you. I wasn’t his future. You were.”

“I was his future? You’ve always been the third person in my marriage. You and baseball.” She says bitterly.

“But who put me there? I know I didn’t.” I reply honestly. “When you two got together I took a step back. When you got serious I took another step back. Once you got married I all but disappeared. Our relationship was relegated to maybe a 5 minute phone call every few months. I chose to do that. Me. I could have texted and called like I always did. I knew we were just friends. There was nothing to hide. But I also knew you were uncomfortable with me. I was his friend. You were his wife. Of course you would come first.” Explaining my stance. 

Rachel’s face contorts, searching for a rebuttal. She finally turns away from me and stays silent. The anger she has always harbored starting to cool with my words. 

With what can only be categorized as a whisper she asks, “Why is it so easy with you two?”

Angry quips and hurt feelings I’ve held for years crowd my mind. I can throw the pieces of my relationship with Mike, that make it great, in her face. I can make her feel small like she made me over the years. I can try to hurt her as bad as she hurt Mike. But I remember not too long ago, Mike inflicted a piercing blow to her as well. I realize I’m tired and I don’t have the energy for anything but the truth. 

“I never asked him to be anyone he wasn’t.” Her head snaps to me and I continue before the atmosphere changes. “I don’t doubt that you loved him, love him, but I don’t think you loved all of him. He’s loyal, kind, and generous. He loves fiercely. He can wear the heck out of a suit with charm to match. And so dang cocky, my god.”

I picture Mike swaggering over home after a Grand Slam and chuckle. 

“It makes sense why you would fall for him. But he’s also a baseball loving, Star Wars watching, bad joke telling dork, who would live his life in relaxed fit jeans and tee shirts if he could. Mike tried to be the man you wanted but he couldn’t deny who he was anymore. The other half of who he is needed to be loved and nourished too. You two were perfect on paper but reality proved otherwise.” 

Rachel takes in a swift intake of breath at my comment. It’s true but not the whole truth. I finish carefully. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t love you.”

It was the most honest we had ever been with each other. I’ve always known how she viewed me but I never hated her. We just never clicked. Our humor was different as were our ideals. We were familiar but not close. She tolerated me. Once she and Mike were together it was as if I no longer belonged in their orbit. It’s understandable.

Mike was always Mike to me. Our relationship was what it always was. Funny, quirky, loving, easy. I may have kept my distance but that never changed, no matter how long we went without seeing or speaking to each other. Maybe she wanted what Mike and I always had in each other. A best friend. 

For years, I unknowingly had a piece of her husband’s heart. Mike couldn’t give what he didn’t have and Rachel never knew how to ask.

Whether I was a willing participant or not, I was the third person in their marriage. 

Rachel nods with understanding and sadness. Her life didn’t turn out as she expected either. I think it’s finally clear the blame isn’t on any one person.    
   
“Two of the most important men in my life and they both loved you.” Rachel says in quiet astonishment. 

“Listen, Rachel…” I begin, her emotions clearly showing. 

“No. It’s fine. Really.” She says with a wavering smile. “It’s time to let’s this go.”

“Doc?” Ben calls. I pivot to see Ben jogging towards me. “Good you’re still here. Our producer wants to talk to you about setting up another segment.” 

“OK, just give me a sec…” I say. 

I turn but Rachel is already walking away. I know that if I call her she’ll hear me. Rachel said that she wanted this to be over, so I let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Eva's backstory and history with Rachel? Do you think this could explain why Rachel and Mike didn't work ?


	7. Good Speech

I walk back inside with Ben and talk to Peter, the producer. He says he loved my energy and take on the game. I really think he means he’ll love the ratings. Peter tries to cement a date for me to come back but I’m not in the mood to make any commitments. I have to talk to Oscar about any official gigs anyway. He slips in a comment about finding me a permanent spot if I wanted. I make it clear I’m happy where I am.  
  
Ben walks me to my chauffeured car, courtesy of the show. I let him know he’s more than welcome to come celebrate our win with us. He may even get a dance with the first woman in the MLB.  Ben hugs me and nearly skips back to the building, presumably to finish his after show duties and get to the club.  
  
I get in the car and sag against the seat. My eyes closed. The driver clears his throat to get my attention.  
  
“Ms. Clarke. This is for you” He says.  
  
The driver hands me a large Styrofoam cup and small paper bag. In the bag there is a small note in familiar, surprisingly delicate, scrawl.  
  
**I don’t care about the sugar. Eat it~ M**  
  
I giggle at his antics and foresight. I pop a donut hole into my mouth happily. Sugar makes everything better. Then, I take a large gulp of my favorite smoothie, both easing my tension.  
  
I take a few more sips then take out my phone as we ease into the traffic, headed towards the club. 57 text messages. 34 missed calls and various social media notifications. No surprise there. I call the one person who didn’t text or call.  
  
“Bawson? BAWSON?!? Really Doc.” Mike exclaims.  
  
*I’m sorry. It just popped out.” I defend while quieting my giggle.  
  
“You Bennifered me and Gin. Why? Why would you do that? Do you have any idea what I’ve been dealing with for the past hour?” Mike continues, disregarding my comment.  
  
I can see him pacing up and down a quiet alcove in the club, gesturing emphatically.  
  
“See this is how it works,” he explains slowly, “You go, talk us up. Instill some Padre Pride. Get people excited. Put butts in the seats.”  
  
“Like that’s been a problem since Ginny got called up.” I interject.  
  
“Not the point. We can always have more” He says petulantly. “Not make us… memes.”  
  
 Mike pronounces it mee-mees.    
  
“Old man what are you whining about?” I say bemused.  
  
My phone vibrates and I open the latest message. It’s a link to Tumblr. It’s a gif of three cats on the back of a couch, moving their heads in sync back and forth, following a person’s hand. I’ve seen it a million times. The only difference is Mike, Ginny, and Blip’s faces are photoshopped over each of the cat’s faces and in the hand is the World Series official logo.  
  
 It took a whole 30 minutes for Bawsonip to be a thing.  
  
I can’t help it. I cackle into the phone.  
   
“It’s not funny. This is gonna follow me for the rest of my career and probably into the afterlife. Bawson this, Bawson that. And freakin Bawsonip. Come on Doc, seriously?” Mikes voice continues to rise in pitch.  
  
I laugh harder at that. Mike can’t take it any longer and laughs too.  
  
“What am I going to do with you?” He asks through his dissipating laughter.  
  
“Marry me probably.” I reply offhandedly.  
  
“After this stunt, no. Not gonna happen.” Mike’s affection evident.  
  
“Uh huh. Yea, we’ll see.”  
  
I absentmindedly play with the charm around my neck.  
  
We sit in silence for a few moments.  
  
“You did good.” He says softly.  
  
I exhale slowly and make a noncommittal sound. Mike waits a few beats.  
  
“Hey.” He says, pulling my attention back from my thoughts.  
  
“Yea” I answer wearily.  
  
“Good speech.”  
  
“Yea?” I whisper with enlivened conviction.  
  
“Yea.” Mike says simply.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my very first Fic. I had a blast writing it. What do you think? What are your thoughts on Eva as a OC and her relationship with Mike? I have plans but what do you want to see more of in the Clarkson Universe?


End file.
